-0-
Minerva woke up and sighed at how well she'd slept. It was an unusual turn of events after the last few days but, indeed, this night had been so refreshing she nearly didn't want to get up. She rolled over and hugged her pillow before she frowned and looked down at herself. She was still in her robes and they weren't all that comfortable. She looked again and found them to be the ones she'd worn yesterday and she sat up suddenly.
She was not one who wandered to bed and conked out. No, she would fall asleep where she sat some days but she was never one to tuck herself into bed fully clothed. Quite frankly, she would rather go bare than sleep in the stuffy robes she chose to wear every day.
"MICHAEL!"
She heard him enquire after her from her sitting room and threw the covers off. As she rushed from the room, she nearly tripped over her boots which had been left by the bed neatly and not in the place she would have put them by the door. She stalked into the sitting room prepared to unload everything.
"Was someone -"
"Mistress," he said carefully.
"Don't you take that tone with me -"
"Alright," he said, standing tall, his hand resting on his sword. "She had the password. You neglected to change it. She requested entry, I was helpless but to allow her."
"I was unconscious!"
"You were asleep."
"How the hell would you know?!"
"Because she told me so and if I may be so bold, Minerva, whatever issue is eating you up inside is nothing to do with me. She's never given us any reason to doubt her. There is something about her, Minerva that -"
"I do not," she spat. "Need a portrait telling me my business."
"Fine," he huffed. "I won't then. I performed my duties to the letter of the law, madam and with that, I'll bid you adieu."
He left and she huffed and called him back, but he did not return. She frowned and patted her hair down and poked her head out of her portrait and growled again at the empty frame. She slammed it shut behind her and screamed into her hands. How she was supposed to cope with all this was unfathomable. She remembered a far-off lesson her grandmother had suggested when she was around 8 and quite frankly, at her most volatile, and she began counting back from 20.
It didn't take long, and the ire that had built up did not feel much better, so she did it again.
Twice in Latin and then again in Gaelic.
She sighed once more. She was so overwhelmed she wasn't sure what to do next, so she did as she always did and pulled herself up to her full height and got ready for her day. She would ignore this. She would not thank Hermione for taking her home, though, nor would she acknowledge the gross overreach by the young woman in entering her bedroom without permission.
A small voice at the back of her head asked her what she thought Hermione should have done, but as usual, she ignored it. Hermione could have made her go to sleep for all Minerva knew and until she knew anything otherwise, she would simply avoid her.
She threw her robes on the floor and stared at them until she got in the shower and wondered exactly how long it would take for her to shrivel up and be washed away with the water.
-0-
Hermione didn't need any time at all to realise that her escapades during the previous evening had not gone down well. As soon as she sat down in the Hall for breakfast beside Harry, she felt the vitriolic anger from someone and needed no time at all to figure out who it was from. She sighed into her tea and looked sideways at Harry, without looking up at the Head Table.
"Looks like you're going to class on your own," she mumbled. "I'm going to see the Headmaster, I suppose."
"Is that her?" Harry asked, rubbing his wrist.
"You feel that?" she asked quietly.
"Just itchy. Dunno if the others do."
Hermione hummed and grabbed an apple and an orange to put in her pocket. The thought had occurred to her yesterday while she was moving debris that they should each of them have a small bag or pocket that could fit all manner of things in, but it was only a fledgling thought and there were plenty of other thoughts that took precedence at the moment.
"What did you do?" Ginny asked as she dropped down beside Harry. "If looks could kill, you'd be dead."
"I," she glanced around. "Not here. Is your wrist itchy, by the way?"
"Mine?" she asked, thinking about it. "Actually yeah, kinda. Like a ghost of an itch."
"Mmm," Hermione nodded. "We think maybe it's that."
"Oh," Ginny blinked, looking down at her lap. "Really?"
"Yeah, dunno what that means," Hermione groaned. "But I guess we'll discuss that later as well."
"So we are meeting later?" Ginny asked. "After practice?"
"Sure," Hermione nodded. "I did a lot last night while you guys were sleeping."
"Oh, I see," Ginny laughed as she glanced up at the table. "Bump into anyone we know?"
"Ginny," Hermione hissed. "Stop it."
"Mornin'," Ron grumbled as he dropped down opposite them.
"Hey," Hermione smiled and passed him the bacon.
"Thanks," he chuckled.
"You know what? Finish your food," she chuckled at Ron's horror. "Or bring some, I don't care, but let's go now for a few minutes and discuss," she glanced up at the Top table. "Well. Things."
They ate the rest of their breakfasts efficiently. Ron grabbed a bacon sandwich that he put together hurriedly and left before anyone could stop them. They met in the bathroom, locked the main door behind them and put up the usual spells.
"So, short version. I couldn't sleep last night, so I came down here last night. I bumped into a mutual acquaintance and us -" She made a face. "Well, talked is a strong word but that person may or may not have fallen asleep on me, so I returned that mutual acquaintance to their room because I have the password to their rooms and this morning it seems I've taken over Harry's public enemy number one position. So," she chuckled as Ginny laughed. "You guys do your thing and I shall go and see Dumbledore for the morning instead of going to Transfiguration. Once again, she won't ask where I am, but should she, you can tell her I'm feeling unwell." She sighed. "I did already tell her that I'm fine with Dumbledore tutoring me for the rest of the year but as yet, I have no word from him on that. I'm just going to do my best to remain easy going and we'll adjust as needed."
"She still hasn't told you what the issue is?" Ginny asked.
"No," Hermione sighed. "And honestly, I'd hoped to force Dumbledore to tell me, but we'll see. He may not be here or have time to do so. If not I'll just come down here and start on the cave-in."
"Hermione," Harry frowned. "You shouldn't do that on your own."
"I promise I'll only start shoring up some of the cracks," she smiled as she squeezed his hand. "I won't start moving stuff. That's how you do it anyway. Shore, then shift. I don't really even know why I know that."
Ginny laughed again and they all heard the first bell go.
"Alright," she muttered. "Guess we'll go. Have a good morning, I'll see you at lunch."
They waved and she stuck around for a long time until after the second bell had rung before she left and made her way up to the Headmaster's office.
"He's not in," the Gargoyle growled and she huffed.
"Will he be back soon, do you know?"
"I do not."
"Alright," she nodded. "Thank you."
"Miss Granger," the Gargoyle said quietly.
"Yes?"
There was a long pause and the Gargoyle looked particularly troubled.
"I feel the need to tell you that you should be allowed entry if you wish, even though that goes against all my parameters."
"Thank you for telling me that," she smiled, patting its shoulder. "I will not take advantage of you, but you are the second Entry guardian that has suggested that. Do you know why?"
He paused again and huffed.
"I do not," he said carefully.
"That's okay. No more questions. Thank you for your time."
"Miss Granger?"
"Hmm?" she answered before she left.
"If you are in need of assistance, the Castle will answer."
"Thank you," she said carefully, glancing around. "I will remember."
-0-
She spent a good deal of time sitting cross-legged on a cushion in the Second-Floor girl's bathroom, taking notes. Notes about Minerva, about herself. She made notes about Michael and Dumbledore's gargoyle and when the bell went for the end of the first lesson, she huffed at the lack of progress.
She realised as she looked at the cracks in the tunnel that she didn't actually know how to shore it up, so she took herself off to the library and spent the rest of the morning reading up on the best way to do that. She smiled at Madam Pince before she settled into a corner where she could read without interruption. She tried to remain as occupied as possible and by the time the lunch bell rang, she'd read nearly everything there was to read in the library about engineering. It had helped a little, but most of the books at Hogwarts did not give anyone a step-by-step instruction guide on how to repair foundation cracks in a 10th Century castle.
The Second Years that had come in, halfway through the lesson, to do some research on Charms spent some time whispering behind their hands about her and her new scars. It had frightened her when she found she could hear them but after a while, it was just annoying.
"Miss Granger?"
"Hmm?" she blinked, looking up at the Librarian.
"It is time to go to lunch."
"Oh," she blinked. "Sorry. Of course."
"What are you working on?"
Hermione blinked. The woman usually appreciated her silence and Hermione appreciated the same but apparently today they would talk.
"Um, just a project we were tackling over the holidays. Trying to repair a," she hesitated. "Bedroom. It was just an interest I had while I was not in class."
"And why were you not in class?" she blinked imperiously.
"Well," Hermione said steadily. "Professor McGonagall and I are," she paused again. "I am so far ahead that Professor McGonagall said that I could take this particular double to study on my own."
"That does not sound very like Minerva," Madam Pince muttered.
"Oh, I know," Hermione chuckled. She did not think Madam Pince had meant her to hear that. "But you should ask her if you are worried. And it was only for today. I asked her if I could have the second half of our double to go to the library while she brushed up on everyone else's," she paused trying to remember what they were doing. "Switching spells." She also really hoped Madam Pince wasn't up-to-date with Minerva's lesson plans and crossed her fingers under the desk. They stared at each other for a time before Madam Pince nodded.
"Alright, off to lunch with you."
"Thank you Madam Pince," she said politely, leaving at pace before the woman could call her back.
She made her way down to lunch, only paying attention to her surroundings when she turned into the entrance hall and screeched to a halt. Minerva and Professor Dumbledore stood at the Entrance to Hogwarts, arguing on the front steps. She froze as they looked at her and she glanced at the troubled eyes of the Headmaster and the tears forming in Minerva's and looked away.
"My apologies," she whispered. "I'll -"
She turned and walked back the way she came, ignoring the call of her name from the Headmaster, though she heard it several times.
Instead, she walked all the way up to Gryffindor Tower and changed into her pyjamas and crawled into bed. There, surrounded in heat she could not account for, but which relaxed her more than she thought possible, she sobbed into her pillow. She had no idea how to fix what was broken but she wanted to desperately. Whatever had changed in her life was so discombobulating that she could not see the beginning or the end of it and she desperately wanted to. She needed to know what was happening so she could stop it. While she was making plans in her head, with tears running down her face, she closed her eyes and dreamed of Minerva.
-0-
Minerva's stomach clenched as Hermione rushed away and it was only after years of controlling her feelings that she prevented herself from taking a step forward. She had flatly refused to allow Albus to tell her and she now needed to figure out how to accommodate Hermione's education with her own avoidance. She would never destroy Hermione's chance to learn everything she wanted to know, but seeing her while she looked so broken was not doing much for her resolve.
"You must tutor her," she insisted to Albus as they watched her leave.
"I will do nothing of the sort. You must tell her."
"I also will not be doing that," Minerva huffed. They had been properly on the way to disagreeing when Hermione had appeared but now they seemed a little more measured.
"Minerva -"
"You chose to tell me and not her. If she is unaware then I will not be making her aware and now that I do know, you can mind your own business," she sneered. "As difficult as you find it."
"That was unkind," he muttered. "You can be so unpleasant when you are upset."
"YOU!" she practically screeched. "Are done interfering with my life. I wish you had never -"
"Albus, Minerva," Severus' dark voice interrupted them. "We can hear you in the Hall."
Minerva huffed and left them to it. She returned to her quarters without pause. She slammed the empty portrait again and stormed into her room where she threw a leftover tea cup at the mirror. The shattering of glass and porcelain made her feel no better and she slumped on the bed and stared at her hands.
She was immediately transported back to the night she had lain on the sofa with Hermione, doing wandless magic together. That feeling of Hermione's fingers between hers and the way that their magic had seemed to join together at their wrist and then hum as it left their hands. She had not understood it then, not on the way it was telling her. It's why she had not explained when Hermione asked, but she understood now.
She did. And she wished she did not. She repaired the broken mirror with a lazy wave of her hand.
"Seven years bad luck," she whispered, pulling her pillow closer and burying her face in it. "Seventy, perhaps," she shuddered.
There was so much sadness within her that she could keep it in no longer. She sobbed into her pillow and after a time, fell into something like sleep where she dreamed only of Hermione.